


i really like talking to you

by hawrthiacoopri



Series: PB&J [2]
Category: The Office (US), The Office (US) RPF
Genre: Drunken Confessions, F/M, First Kisses, Gen, Making Out, pam sits in jims lap but its like platonic until its not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 18:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawrthiacoopri/pseuds/hawrthiacoopri
Summary: “I like talking to you. I LOVE talking to you. You’re the best person I talk to here.”“I’m the only person who you talk to here, Jim.”-jim gets a little drunk cleaning up after a party and pam is stuck in the office taking care of him until he sobers up. sometimes things are cliches for a reason, folks





	i really like talking to you

**Author's Note:**

> hey yall its me back again with more bullshit about my favorite couple. love u

“Pamela. Pam. Beesler. Beeswax Beesly.”

Pam sighed, looking up from her computer to watch Jim dangle off of his desk, fumbling a glass paperweight in his hands and looking up at her starrily. “What do you need, Jim?”

Michael had needed two people to stay in to clean up after the party for Meredith’s birthday party, and by the age old bubblegum in a dish game, Jim and Pam had been singled out and left to do it. Bubblegum in a dish, Pam had argued, was not a reasonable way for a group of adults to delegate responsibility. But she had been overruled by a round of nose goes and they had been left to clean up the alcohol they’d all communally snuck in as well as all the streamers the Party Planning Committee had put up. But Jim didn’t want to waste any of the liquor their coworkers had so steadfastly hidden for weeks and weeks for this party (or, they had all agreed, until Michael brought Jan in again, just for moral support, just to keep themselves sane). 

Needless to say, he had gotten wasted and was now slumping over his desk and dangling his legs like a child, talking to Pam as she worked on digitally tracing some art she’d done to keep herself busy as she waited for him to sober up. It was absolutely adorable. 

“Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing…” He kept overturning the paperweight in his hands as he talked. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Oh yeah?” She was only half listening, focusing on a particularly difficult patch of flowers. 

He nodded. “Uh-huh. ‘Cause I like talking to you. I LOVE talking to you. You’re the best person I talk to here.”

“I’m the only person who you talk to here, Jim.”

“Not true. I talk to Dwight, when I’m fucking with him.”

“Do you now?” Pam asked absently, saving the document and swiveling to look at him. “Well, thank you for saying you love talking to me.” He’s drunk, she told herself. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, she added on. To herself again. 

Jim hummed noncommittally, swinging his legs onto the ground and getting up. He smirked groggily and loped over to her desk. Nestled his chin in his arms. “Welcome.” 

She coughed and looked at him carefully, scrutinizing his face for any signs of him being, like actually absolutely and totally wasted. He always got affectionate when he was drunk, but still. This was overkill. “You must be trying very hard to be leaning over my desk like that. I mean, it’s even short for me.” 

Jim giggled uncontrollably, his cheeks ruddy, and he ruffled his hair up as he watched her. She smiled softly back at him, trying to keep her eyes off of his lips. “That’s funny, Pam. You… you’re funny.” 

“You’re funny too.” She nodded indulgently at him before getting up and going around the desk, grabbing him by the arms and making firm eye contact with him. “And also very, very drunk. Let’s just sit down for a moment.”

Jim complied, but not the way she wished- she meant maybe on the couch Michael had in his office now. 

Instead he pulled her onto his fucking lap. In her chair. He must have heard her sharp intake of breath, and he laughed into her hair. She felt his breath ruffle it, and then she felt a shiver go up her spine. “ ‘Kay.”

Pam hardly trusted her voice to stay steady. “Well, you did sit down,” she said shakily. 

“So did you,” he replied, his arms snaking around her waist. She automatically put her hands up to put them over where they overlapped, almost breaking them apart but not quite. The truth was that it was cozy. Jim was warm and sturdy and he smelled like the Down fabric softener she knew he used, and he had the exact right sort of lanky softness about him that came from a sedentary deskjob. She suddenly had the desire to cuddle down into his lap further, bury her head in his chest and just feel the rising and falling of it until she was lulled asleep from the soothing rhythm. But she didn’t, because friends didn’t nuzzle into other friend’s chests and fall asleep in their dark office all alone. She just sat as still as possible and tried her hardest to be calm. 

A beat. 

“Halpert, are you smelling my hair?” Pam craned her neck to watch Jim’s face. 

“Maybe.” 

“... Why?”

“Because I like your shampoo. You smell good, Pam.” He started to giggle again, and she couldn’t help but feel her chest tighten at how cute he looked when he was laughing.  
“And I’m a little drunk. And I like you.” 

“Yes, you are. And you said that already, that you like talking to me,” she responded. Right before she turned back around, Jim took a hand and cupped her cheek to keep her still. 

“N-no. I. Not talking to you. I just like you.” His eyes roved her face until they ended on her own, and she smiled warmly at him. 

“I like you too, Jim. We’re best friends.” She kept that in her mind when he started thumbing at her lip. Best friends. 

Jim looked into her eyes a bit longer before he broke away, chuckling softly to himself. “Pam. Oh, Pam, Pam, Pam… Like, not like best friends.” 

“I- not?” 

He snorted, like she was the drunk one being dense. “Pam, you gorgeous oblivious idiot. I like you like this.” He pulled her chin up between his fingers and Pam felt her face tingle because how did he know she loved when guys did that and suddenly they were kissing and Jim’s other hand was pressing her closer and closer to him until they were pressed flush and Pam’s head was spinning. She couldn’t tell whether it was from lack of air or the shock, but she didn’t care. She never wanted it to end. 

Jim, apparently, didn’t either; he was doing everything in his power to keep kissing Pam. He had his hands on both sides of her face, holding her closer, and she’d shifted so she was facing towards him to accommodate. Her legs hung over one side as they kissed, and she put her hands tentatively behind his back to hug him close. She could feel his shoulderblades move under her palms. She felt like she was in heaven. All she could smell and hear and think and feel was Jim Jim Jim Jim Jim and she could suddenly recognize the background noise she always heard whenever she was near him, and she sighed into his mouth. He laughed a little into hers and kept deepening his kisses until Pam finally pushed away.

She felt, ironically, as if she was pulling out of a drunk man’s stupor as she did it. She looked back at Jim and his messy curls and his kiss-red lips. He looked so handsome she could hardly stand it. 

“Li-listen. I really, really want to do this, but. You’re drunk. I don’t want to make this weird.” 

“Then don’t make it weird, Pam,” Jim replied, pulling her until their foreheads touched. “You can’t tease me like that.”

Pam shook her head and smiled apologetically. “I don’t want to have you regret this when you’re mostly sober.” He looked ready to open his mouth, so she cut him off. “And don’t tell me you’re already sober, Jim, even you can’t drink that much tequila and shitty bag wine and not be sloshed.” 

“I’ll admit I’m not sober,” He drawled. “But I also admit that I would never have done that sober and so I think it’s a good thing I’m not.” 

“That’s,” she said, “not the issue. The issue is you don’t know what you’re doing and you’re going to regret this in the morning. Okay?” 

Jim’s face got suddenly serious. “Pam, look. I may not be totally sober, but the alcohol has somewhat worn off and you are still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Pam Beesly,” Jim said, hands back on either side of her face, “I’ve been in love with you since we first met and you told me to enjoy my last moments before I met Dwight. I love how sweet and kind you are to everyone who deserves it and how considerate you are. I love you, I love you, I love you, please just let me kiss you or I’ll never stop saying it. 

“Is that a promise?” Pam breathed. 

Jim whined. “Yes. It is. But I don’t want to. My voice would get sore.” 

“Let’s not waste that voice of yours, then, you do have sales calls to make tomorrow,” she whispered. Jim looked so thrilled she had to stop herself from kissing his little dimples, so instead she grabbed him by the hands and dragged him up and to the hallway wall. 

He followed obediently and when she grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him back in, he came back to his bold tipsy self. His hands flew back to her waist and he kept her against the wall, not quite pinning her but keeping her steady. She reached arms up the back of his untucked shirt and felt the warmth of his bare skin while they kissed deeper and deeper until Pam thought they’d never breathe again. Jim put up a knee by one side of her to let himself lean in, and she dragged a hand away from his back to put a steadying hand on it. 

“I’ve wanted to keep you against this wall since I saw you,” Jim husked between kisses. “You look so beautiful, I can’t believe I met you, my mind is blown, Beesly.” 

“Okay, you sap,” she chastised, kissing a line down his jaw while they talked. He seemed to like that, lifting his chin to let her kiss there more. She tried it, playfully wrinkling her nose. “Ugh, I’m gonna get beard burn on your scruff, Jim.” 

“I can shave,” He promised absentmindedly. “I’d do literally anything for you in this very moment.” She cut that thought off when she pressed their lips back together, taking her turn to rub a thumb over his lips and his stubble to show she still liked it. Even if it felt scratchy as hell. 

“Will you stop being the cutest person alive? So others can have a chance for once?” Pam teased, and he smiled into her cheek. 

“No can do. I need that title. So I can give it to you. I heretofore christen you.” 

She laughed at him. “Impossible. No one can take it away from you if they don’t apply.”

“You don’t even need to apply, that’s how cute you are,” Jim replied, his tongue darting out between his teeth as he smiled and distracting Pam. 

She made a face of indignance. “See, that’s the problem! You can’t even stop being sappy for two seconds. AND, no one could ever touch you on cuteness with that little tongue thing you just did.” Pam wondered if the drunk truthfulness had transferred through one of their kisses. 

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What tongue thing?” She shook her head, and he tilted her chin up to look at him (an impressive thing, seeing as he was nine inches taller than her). His eyes changed. “Oh. OH. Do you mean… this tongue thing?” He smirked at her taken-aback expression before he licked into her mouth, tonguing her until she was sighing back into his mouth and reciprocating. She let her hands slide down to rest on his chest, and they stayed like that until they absolutely needed air. 

Pam’s chest heaved as she watched him, and she grinned wickedly at him. “Why, Jim Halpert. I would never peg you as the type of man to do that, in all our years of friendship.” 

“I usually don’t go around tonguing my friends, So I really would hope so.” He shrugged modestly, and swung around past her with his hands in his pockets as she started to lean back in. 

“Oh, come on, Jim!” 

He hid his smile as he started to pack all the way up, inwardly laughing at how pretty Pam was when she was all flustered and pink and frazzled. “Sorry, Beesly.” He shrugged. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“But why?” She grumbled, trailing after him as he walked out the door, grabbing his coat on the way. 

Jim shrugged and put an arm around her waist. “Just gotta.” 

Pam sighed. 

At least she knew he didn’t only like talking to her.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for the support!
> 
> ig- @salem.pdf
> 
> twitter- @itshebrew4peace


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